


Hunters

by PetitePhilomath



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: BDSM, Capture, F/M, Rescue, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26833201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetitePhilomath/pseuds/PetitePhilomath
Summary: Set within the framework of the season 4 episode 15 titled, "Hunters", Seven and Tuvok are captured just as how the episode starts but then quickly diverts into a different story from there. Elements of BDSM and crude language are included.
Relationships: Seven of Nine/Hirogen
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Hunters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Troodster1972](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Troodster1972/gifts), [mrs_javert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_javert/gifts).



> *This whole story is the result of peer pressure. Or, Collective Unimatrix pressure, I should say. Resistance really is futile with those two. SMOOCHES.  
> *Little Doll is my actual main submissive endearment in BDSM settings.  
> *I giggled to myself when I typed the cell being thrown into darkness. It isn’t a Trek reference, but I chuckled nonetheless.  
> *this was supposed to be a 100-word drabble. That didn’t happen.  
> *Even though Safety scissors should ALWAYS be available in actual BDSM play, I didn't include them here as a Hirogen hunter would not care about the safety of his prey.

She had woken up disoriented and laid out on the floor of a holding cell with Tuvok nearby. The lights too bright and clinical. Sometime during their abduction, they had been outfitted in immensely restrictive harnesses, yet, insidiously, Seven felt herself growing comfortable in the harness. Maybe it reminded her of her old Borg exoplating in a small way, she mused.

Coming back to the reality of her situation she let her Borg-enhanced eye dart around the room. Analyzing compositions and possible weak points in the surroundings. Upon scanning the ceiling she noticed multiple steel rings attached to plates that were welded to various ceiling panels. Curious, she thought. 

There wasn’t much time to ponder the reason for the rings as two Hirogen hunters stormed into the room. One hoisted Tuvok up and dragged him by the back strap of the harness out of the cell and down the hall, presumably to another cell. The other hoisted Seven to her feet and waited for the door to close, sealing them inside alone.

Seven opened her mouth to protest at the sound of the door closing, but as she did so the hunter silenced her with a quick hand to her throat. Shocked at the speed her pulse increased 2.3x its normal rate. She felt all 31 pounds of pressure the Hirogen hunter was exerting around her neck. His armor encased fingers passing over her sternocleidomastoid muscles she flexed as she tried to move in the grasp, his fingertips digging in behind them. She knew she should not be feeling the arousal that was forming, but there it was.

He leaned in, eyes locked onto hers in a penetrating gaze, his breath hot and sticky as it ghosted over her face through the slits in his mask.

“Be a good ‘Little Doll’”, he whispered in a dark, raspy timbre.

Again, the feeling low in her abdomen made itself known. Rumbling more than it should be given her current circumstance. Pleasure is irrelevant, she chastised herself. Especially in her situation. The feeling grew into warm tingles of pleasure low in her abdomen when the Hirogen hunter slowly lifted his eyes to the metal ring above them. If the Hirogen smiled, this one was probably sporting a smirk under the mask if the flash in his eyes was any indication.

The hand around her throat lessened its grip, slowly moved to the back of her skull, and threaded its fingers into her hair. Roughly, the fingers clenched her hair and pulled sharply down causing her eyes to follow his and observe the steel rings above her. Every analytical Borg thought was telling her to resist, but her human physiology was humming. Pleasure may be relevant. Resistance may be futile. 

“You will say ‘fog’ at the moment the pain becomes too much”, he instructed. “But, I suspect” he continued darkly, “that you will hold out much longer than my other prisoners. Do you understand, Little Doll?”

Seven didn’t speak immediately, processing how her body reacted to the repeated title. Little Doll. The action earning her a tighter grasp on her hair.

“Do you understand!?”, he growled.

“I understand”, Seven stated with more play edging her voice than she would have liked. Her heart pounding in her chest doing more than its normal physiological function. Body singing with anticipation, she felt the fingers fall from her hair and a black cloth was fashioned around her eyes, throwing the cell into darkness.

Without her sight, Seven’s other senses kicked into high gear. She felt and heard the Hirogen move away from her body. The coldness of the room became more apparent, 56.3 degrees Fahrenheit. The sounds of a locker or a container being snapped open. Then the room grew eerily quiet.

“Before I begin, one final rule”, his voice boomed out over the silence of the cell. “You will not speak unless asked a direct question or to utter the word fog. Your screams”, he paused, “are most welcome, though.”

Seven instinctively flexed her right hand and jutted out her chin in defiance, her jaw clenched. A quick, stinging slap across her face was the reward for her cheekiness. The sensation heightened by the contact his hand made with the starburst implant at the crux of her mandible just below her right ear, sending shockwaves through her head leaving her dizzy and a bit off balance. Her body reacted quickly, though, a delicious blend of pain and slowly growing pleasure.

“Do you understand?” he asked again as he walked away. 

“Yes”, Seven swallowed, the word her last knowing the game they were about to play.

Feeling with minute compression of airwaves against her body, Seven sensed the Hirogen start to approach her. Anticipation began to build again.

A pair of gloved hands pulled her own to her front and began to tightly weave scratchy rope around and between her wrists. From the rope that made contact with the webbing of her left hand, she analyzed the rope to be composed of coconut fibers. Yes, she thought deviously, this will leave more than simple rope marks.

Once the Hirogen was satisfied with his handiwork he stepped away again and pressed one of the buttons recessed in one of the walls. The steel ring at the center of the room lowered midway down and he threaded the remainder of the rope once, twice around the ring before pressing again at the button to raise the ring back up to the ceiling. As it rose Seven felt her hands rise above her head. It didn’t stop when her arms were held taut, but continued to rise until her the toes of her boots barely grazed the floor. She was strung up with no escape and it excited her more than it should. 

She tried to stretch her fingers to reach the metal ring, but he had secured her in such a way that her Borg hand could not get a clear grasp. She let the word “damn” fall silently from her lips. A word she’d have to thank Janeway for if she ever saw her again, she thought.

CRACK!

Her body arched sharply in one long sinuous wave as the kiss of a whip squarely hit the center of her back. Nanoprobes rushed to the sight to alleviate the sting as she grits her teeth to stay silent and not give her captor the satisfaction of her voice.

CRACK!  
Another kiss. Another rush of nanoprobes.

CRACK! CRACK!

Seven danced on her toes, her body arcing continually, blonde hair falling over her face. Pain mixed with agonizing pleasure rippled through her whole body. Still, she made no sound. Displeasure formed on the Hirogen hunter’s face.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Three more forceful kisses of the whip tore through the back of her biosuit. The third breaking skin. Finally, Seven let out a hiss as a thin trickle of blood began to track down her back. Her arousal seemed to follow the blood trail lower and lower until it settled into her core.

Slightly pleased, the Hirogen walked to the wall and lowered Seven just enough that her heels touched the ground again. Setting aside the bullwhip, the Hirogen grabbed the spreader bar from the chest on the ground. Letting one end of the bar drag, he toyed with her senses. Metal scrapping upon metal as he stalked a slow circle around his prey. He watched as Seven twitched against her restraints and noted that she once again flinched her right hand. A tell.

Back behind Seven he let the bar fall to the floor with a loud clang and laughed sinfully as Seven jumped. Crouching down he affixed one leather cuff around her left ankle, forcefully pushed her right foot away, and affixed the right cuff around her right ankle. Standing again he walked back to the wall and lifted Seven once until just her toes grazed the hard, metal floor. He paused momentarily to admire his prey spread three feet wide, hair falling in front of her face, clothing torn.

He picked the whip back up and circled at the edge of the room before walking to stand directly in front of Seven. Whip held tightly in one hand he grabbed Seven’s face with the other and teased, “you will scream so enough Little Doll”.  
Little Doll. The name sent another rush to her core and she reactively contracted her walls. Damn, she thought again.

CRACK!  
An expertly placed kiss to her inner right thigh. She tried to retreat, but couldn’t  
CRACK!  
One on her left breast. Another hiss.  
CRACK!  
Steady succession as another blow flew between her legs and landed on top of her left thigh.  
CRACK!  
A low, throaty moan as Seven’s body again rolled in stinging pain when the whip sailed across her right nipple. Perking instantly in the aftermath.

Satisfied with the sound that fell from Seven’s full lips the Hirogen circled to her back and began again. With a quick turn of his wrist, the bullwhip danced in the air etching a bright red X into the middle of Seven’s back, tearing more of her biosuit off. At this, Seven let out her first scream.

“AHHHHH!!”

Oh, yes. Hirogen do smile. Wickedly.

Blood streaks from her open wounds and nanoprobes rush in to stop the flow and repair the damaged skin. Reveling in the momentary respite from the whip Seven makes a pointed decision to disable the nanoprobes. If her human physiology is going to betray her she will play full tilt.

CRACK!

She feels the sting across her glutes and in the forward thrust of her hips juices begin to flow from her core. Oh yes, she’s playing. Thought no longer given to escape, but to the chase and tease of pleasure.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Relentless in his pursuit of tortured pleasure he assaults Seven’s dandling, spent body. Her right calf, glutes again, left calf, right arm on the would-be exposed implant, and stalking around to front again…between her legs.

Eyes wide behind the cloth, nostrils flared, head thrown back. A scream tears from Seven as she presses down through her toes in a futile attempt to ground herself. From the Hirogen’s perspective, he observes her biosuit darken at the apex of the legs. Juices flowing from Seven as her clit sings in exquisite agony. Pleasure is not irrelevant, and this pain is pleasure. Against her better judgement, Seven arches again pressing her breast forward. Teasing the Hirogen, chasing the sting.

“Your screams are my victory, Little Doll, but you are still too presumptuous” he sternly states as he marches towards her. “This is not about you and what your body is growing to desire. You. are. Mine. You exist for my victory. You are not your own.”

What Seven did not expect was to be turned on by the dressing down. For her nipples to grow painfully tight, for the throb in her core to explode in need. She licked her lips as she flexed her core in vain, grasping at straws. In her anger and frustration, she exclaimed, “The Hirogen are weak. You have hunted yourselves thin. You know empty victories”, hoping he would react.

Her barred feet left the ground as his hand circled her neck lifting her into the air. YESS, Seven thought. 

“You insolent Little Doll!” he boomed, “You may have been pathetic prey and easily taken, but you will be my greatest study and you will know great pain." He releases Seven's neck without care and walks away as her arms snap back to being pulled taut. The rope around her wrists dig in sharply and Seven can feel microtears forming, like hundreds of tiny paper cuts. 

The throb in Seven's core had been steadily rising and she tried again fruitlessly to squeeze around nothing. To alleviate the need of her swelling clit. She counts the sounds of his receding steps in an attempt to distract herself from her own need and yearning until she hears him rummaging in the trunk again. The anticipation of what is to come sends her arousal surging once again.

Armed with more hanks of rope, a knife, clamps, and a flogger the Hirogen walks back to Seven hanging in the center of the room. Her cheeks flushed, mouth parted, clothing torn he admired his prey. Her bones would make a prized relic once he was finished with her. Brandishing his knife he placed the tip of it under Seven's chin lifted her covered eyes to his.

"Shall we continue, Little Doll" he spoke as he pressed the tip into her drawing a prick of blood. "Yes," she states as she nods gingerly on it. The pressure sending gooseflesh to erupt over her skin.

He undoes the harness that has been around Seven and uses his knife to make quick work of the rest of the biosuit that remains hanging on Seven's body. Now naked in the cold cell Seven's essence shines in the harsh light of the cell coating her labia and her hardened nipples stand at attention drawing the eye of the Hirogen. He attaches one circle clamp to each nipple, tightening the four screws in each clamp until Seven lets out a small cry and her nipples to turn a reddish-purple. Beneath the mask, a smirk plays across the Hirogen’s face, and before he turns to grab some rope he smacks Seven across her breasts earning him a loud cry of pain. Her cries are like a song in his ears.

Rope tucked under his arm he cut Seven’s arms down and in one fell swoop his slices the rope between her wrists so that her arms are completely free, though still bound at the ankles by the spreader bar. Stashing the knife for later, Hirogen circles around Seven and binds her wrist together behind her back, her arms framing the bloodied ”X” between her arms. For good measure, he presses a fist into the middle of the X as the other hand holds the shoulder to keep his captive from falling. A loud, throaty moan rolls from Seven’s mouth as more juice seeps out from her vulva.

Pain is pleasure, pleasure is relevant.

Wasting no time, Hirogen commences tieing Seven’s upper body in a chest harness, weaving the rough coconut rope over, under, and between arms and breasts. With every pass intentionally snagging rope on the clamps holding tightly to Sevens erect nipples pulling sharp hisses and tremors from the naked body. Another hank of rope was tightly bound in a harness around Seven’s hips. The contact the rope makes with the metals bands circling Seven’s torso heightened the sensations she was already feeling, especially the ones burning in her core. Threading rope through the ankle cuffs and lead ropes from the midpoints of both harnesses, the Hirogen threaded everything back through the ring in the ceiling bringing Seven’s spread legs out from under her in surprise.

Seven gasped as she adjusted to being suspended. Dangling securely in the air, her cunt felt more exposed than when she was standing sending another surge of anticipation to her core with a fresh flow of juices dripping from her short blonde hairs. Her breasts swinging slightly below her agitating the clamps.

At the button on the wall, the Hirogen lifts Seven higher than his head. Grabbing the flogger of buttery-soft, but heavy leather strips he walks back to Seven whacks Seven across her low hanging breasts with thuddy impact.

”AHHHHH!” Seven screamed as her body attempted to arch in vain away from the source. Juices flowing freely from between her legs.

Five more thuddy blows assault her body. Each one bringing a scream from her plump lips that string together until they blend and fade into a moan at the last whack. Her stomach, hips, a thigh, and her swollen, dripping labia glow a bright red. The colouring is not abated by the deactivated nanoprobes. For good measure, the Hirogen pulls again on both nipple clamps.

”FUUUCK!!”

Where had she picked that one up? Seven began to wonder but didn't have time to ponder long as the Hirogen’s gloved hand slapped her face, again on the side with the starburst implant. 

"One more outburst, Little Doll, and I will flay you for my relics sooner rather than later."  
Nodding quickly, Seven mentally tried to get herself together. 

Noting the bright flush of his prey’s skin the Hirogen grabbed his knife in one hand and squeezed a breast in the other and began to etch a circle around each clamp. The fresh sting went straight to her cunt, especially when he touched the knife tip to her hardened nipple. A fresh moan flowed from her mouth. Continuing with his task, he begins a Y-incision across Seven’s chest, down her torso eliciting tremors from Seven’s suspended body as the metal of the knife passed over the metal bands of her abdomen, and ends the trail with a slashed X on the flesh of her mons. Blood droplets drizzle down and paint the floor below.

Seven’s body sings with pleasure. Borg implants sending a sensory overload to her cortical node and clit. She jostles in the harnesses in another vain attempt to chase the agreeable agony, her bound ankles not allowing the complete closure of her knees to get her the final bit of friction release she moans for.

WHACK!

From behind a blow of the leather flogger lands squarely between her legs.

“AHHHHH-MMMMMM!”

If she wasn’t already blinded by the cloth over her eyes, she would have been from the orgasm that rolled like a tidal wave through her body and implants. Nipples hard and engorged in the clamps, her core convulsing around nothing, but awash with a fresh offering of juices that flow to her mons before dripping down to the floor to mix with her blood. In the aftermath, she hangs limply in the suspension, the rough coconut fibers tickling her sensitive skin and causing small aftershocks.

Relishing in the lusty scream of his prey the Hirogen bends down to the floor, drags a gloved finger through the blood and juice that are swirling on the floor, and raises the finger to paint two marks in the grooves of his helmet. Coming to standing again, the Hirogen goes to turn toward Seven just as her molecules dissolved into glittering light in front of his eyes.

“NOOO!”

His scream is the last thing Seven hears as she feels the tingle of the transport beam take apart her molecules before bringing her back together again in Voyager’s Transporter Room 2. Appearing in a much different state than Tuvok, she knew she would have a lot of explaining to do in her report.


End file.
